


In the Eyes of the Beholder

by flamenashes (Airelav)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Drawing, London era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airelav/pseuds/flamenashes
Summary: James found something in Thomas's study he had never thought of seeing there.--This fic was translated from my own work written in Chinese a while ago.





	In the Eyes of the Beholder

He woke up for a while. Still lying in his position, he didn't want to move, he did not intend to turn over, stretching his sore neck, because of the same posture last too long. James still could feel the heat. It's on his back, those arms crossed his and wrapped around his waist, making him at ease, didn’t have to hear anything and went back and looked at it anymore. Just stay on where finally belongs to him.

The morning breezes morning were unwelcome. James observed the heat behind him quickly faded away. It was like it was only from his imagination, an absurd dream. He stays in bed, silent. He needs a little time to be alone. Maybe he needs time to tell whether everything last night was only a dream, or he just needs to get used to being alone again.  
Except for the sound of hoofs coming from outside the window, this room was silent and he did not need further evidence to prove to himself he is the only one in the room.  
James couldn't remember how long he had been lying like that, or just his thoughts had left the room for a moment before he reluctantly opens his eyes.  
The navy coat was safely resting in a chair not far from the fireplace. He couldn't remember who put it there yesterday. James combs his long hair and put on a jacket and trousers that also rested on the chair but was not cluttered. He finds the boot near the end of the bed. He looks as if ready to to join the regula meeting of the Royal Navy at any time.

  
When James puts on his coat again, and the burden of familiarity fall on his shoulders, he is quite certain that everything after yesterday's dinner was nothing but the side effect of alcohol, creating a certain illusion, tempting him to stay away from what he was pursuing.  
James find himself searching the entire room and couldn't find his sword. He wasn't even sure if he would bring it into the room. He quietly pushed the door open, the corridor was empty. Maybe the servants were gathering at the other end of the house and busily rushing for the upcoming day.  
He finds the door leading to the house owner’s study at the other end of the corridor opened, like some kind of silent invitation. James pushes in and doesn't find the person he is looking for inside. The desk is filled with books in various fields as usual, and the latest edition of pirates pamphlet he brought in last week is also included. James still remembers the first time he had shown it to him. The strange look on his face was like he had never heard of such ridiculous thing existing in London's underground world.

James tries to extract it from underneath several books and accidentally knocks over another stack, all of the stacks resting against the outer edge of the table are all scattered. He rushes to collect all the paper, put it back in a pile. An open book next to him catch his attention.  
The gray-black lines on the paper depict the figure of a man, his eyes closed and his head asleep against the glass window…  
In the other corner was one man turns his back on a wall of entire bookcase, his face to one side, as if he was looking for something on the shelf and talking to someone at same time...  
Next page a woman in a dress sit in front of the dressing table. It is Miranda. He recognizes it from the sight in the drawing. Isn't the man wearing a navy uniform was－  
Suddenly, the finding strikes him. James suddenly feel dizzy. He grasps the book in time from his own loose finger, not let it slip out of his own hand.

With Miranda, then Thomas, James expected a lot of things to happen in the middle of this. He envisioned one day people would know what he had done and how they would look at him. He imagined what his landlady Mrs. Lilywhite would say with others behind his back. Those are the things he could picture, perhaps until that day, he could bear the consequences of all this.  
But this is totally something else. He never expected it.  
They never judged him. They never took things he did or did not for granted. Their life principle different from anyone he know. He once thought perhaps this is why he fell in love with them.  
Miranda once told him the reason. He always treated that as a kindly compliment. She chose one of the few commendable virtue of him to make him happy. It did pleased him.  
But Thomas, among all the things he said, maybe this is the only thing he didn't mention. James has been grateful for this, he suspects that perhaps Thomas knew he didn't need to hear or be proven.  
James's eyes once again fell on the pages spread out on his legs. He unconsciously leans on the edge of the desk or a solid piece of furniture. Perhaps his body know more than he did what he need right now.  
Thomas's script, slender but powerful. It always been an extremely enjoyable to read everything Thomas recorded, even though most of them were business.  
The strokes recorded in these paintings seem to illustrate the other side of Thomas. The lines are light and clear. A few simple lines outline the silhouette of a man's brooding face, which familiarize him with every bit.  
Turning over, almost every page is repeatedly depicting the same face. Angles varied. James feels like he's peeking at the secret he has never intended to reveal. The weight of the fingertip against the margin seems to have gradually increased, almost making it impossible to continue.  
Suddenly, the other man's hand wrapped him, just to stabilize the hand that James began to shake.

"Don't let me interrupt you."  
That man says to him.  
James suppress the urge to turn back, not only because he knew exactly who the other person is, but also he didn't know how to face him.  
His hands seem to turn back the page with self-consciousness, and he sees countless himself among them. Various posture angles. James never know when Thomas recorded these moments, and he remain completely unknown from beginning to end.  
James never know what he was like in front Thomas, he never thought about it. Perhaps when they first met had happened, and soon after they really knew each other, he never thought it again. That is almost impossible to happen in his life under any circumstances.  
This is no better than standing at the front of the mirror, or worse; he's forced to see himself in Thomas' eyes: free, pleasing, undefended. He could hardly recognize it was himself, but surely it was only him.  
"This is..." He heard his voice hoarse, he can't finish it.  
“Seems you spend quite some time under this roof, Lieutenant."  
The invisible force lead James to take him to the next page: He slept sideways on a bed, covered only by a half-length sheet that could not cover the shoulders and the freckles on his back... The window was open, a the navy coat on the chair. It was the room where he had just left.  
James could no longer hold his surprise and let the book fall to the ground. Thomas bent down, when he gets up, he takes James's hand and pulls him close, kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was translated from my own work written in Chinese a while ago. I have no beta, just me and google translate, sad.  
> If you see something funny, leave a comment let me know.  
> It took me some time thinking about this crazy idea, translating my fic into a language I don't know how to write like my mother tongue. Anyway, I gave it a try, hope someone would enjoy it.


End file.
